It takes me a second to realize that’s a question. “Yeah. I’m interested.” I swallow, trying to remember all the advice Sully gave me, although when I’m with Cubby, I always feel like I’m winging it. “I’d like to invite you over to my cabin, whenever you have a free night.”
Cubby purrs under his breath, a deeply enticing sound. “I’d love that. But heads-up, I’m going to implement a no-sleepovers rule.”
“No sleepovers,” I say, hiding the crush of disappointment. “No problem.”
“Just for the sake of good boundaries,” Cubby adds quickly. “Keeping things casual.”
“Sure.” I hesitate, trying to find a good way to ask what I need to ask, but falling short. “I hope this isn’t out of place…but could you let me know if you start dating someone else?” Cubby purses his lips, and I rush to explain myself. “Not that it’s any of my business. I get that. It’s just that I’d feel a lot better knowing if you were seeing someone else from the get-go, instead of finding out later.” I scratch my beard. “If you don’t mind.”
“Chase, I promise I will be entirely honest with you about that. Plus, I’ve got some good news.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m certain there’s no one in this town as hot as you are or nearly as worthy of my once, maybe twice per week attentions.”
I chuckle. “I’m not gonna argue with you about it.” I toss the last bite of my cone in my mouth. “You want to check out the art gallery?”
Cubby bites his cone and studies me. “Definitely, but hold up. It’s really that simple for you? You had fun with me, so it doesn’t matter if you were straight a few weeks ago? You’re just going to be chill and go with the flow?” He points the half-eaten cone at me. “I agree that it shouldn’t be a problem, but surely you know that most people would get an identity crisis.”
I cross my arms over my chest, flustered. Of course it’s not that simple. There have been questions circling around the back of my mind, hounding me when I can’t sleep at night.
Is it possible I’m just gay, not even bisexual? Is that why I’ve never cared much about dating women? But that would mean I’ve lived my life in deep denial or something, and I did enjoy having sex with my girlfriends before Cubby. I hate to think I’ve been lying to myself. Especially after all those years of friendship with Sully, why wouldn’t I see the truth in myself? I’m not prejudiced, or at least I really don’t want to be.
But I’m not going to dump all that on Cubby. He’s known who he is and stood up for himself his whole life, and it’s embarrassing that I’m still figuring that stuff out.
Even with all the questions I’m asking myself, I’m not doubting for a second what I want. Being with Cubby, touching him and tasting the sweat on his skin, that felt too good to deny.
I drop my voice low. “I know you’re hot,” I tell Cubby, then pinch his side like he pinched mine earlier, which makes him laugh. “Is it okay if I don’t know much else besides that for now?”
He bites his lip. “Excellent answer.”
I pull the door to the gallery open. “Good. Let’s check out some art.”
Cubby strolls in first, and when Uncle Ray pops out to greet us, the two of them fall into a fast, easy conversation. Cubby enthuses about the wooden sculptures, using a bunch of words I don’t know, and Uncle Ray hops around, delighted. I barely have a chance to get a word in myself, but I don’t mind.
One minute Cubby and I are talking about stuff I don’t normally talk about, and the next he’s chatting up my uncle so happily, it almost looks like he belongs here. I know the fantasy I’m nurturing is dangerous, but I hang back anyway, unable to do anything but smile and enjoy it.
